Of Death and Other Simple Things
by emeraldteardrops
Summary: Two thousand years of dying might have left him afraid, but Jyuushiro had never been alone. One-shot. Ukitake, Shunsui, Nanao, no pairings


A/N This is my first Bleach fic. Just trying to get a feel for writing these characters.

Of Death and Other Simple Things

It was such as things go. Ukitake Jyuushiro had been dead a very long time. He had been dying just as long.

It was something that he did his best to try to ignore; it did no one any good including himself to be overly focused on a shortcoming that he in no way could change. But that didn't mean he never thought about it. Today was one of _those_ days, when honor and duty and responsibility and friendship could not eclipse the heaviness in his chest, could not keep the metallic tang of blood from his lips. And as one lay choking to death on their own body's betrayal, it can be near impossible to ignore it. And while this may have been his path, one he had walked slowly down his entire life, his weren't the only footsteps along the fading trail.

Jyuushiro wasn't dying alone.

"Easy, Jyuu, just try and relax. It'll be over soon enough," a deep masculine voice was murmuring to him, comforting not only in it's familiarity but in the repetition of words that had been spoken for two millennia. _It would be over soon…_

"Taicho, should I fetch Unohana-taicho?" another voice asked, concern overriding the formality of her words. Nanao had yet to learn that there was more to life than the walls one put around themselves and the rigid structure that kept one protected. Shunsui had spent a hundred years trying to teach her that, but for such an intelligent woman, Ise-fukutaicho still refused to understand. She still refused to trust her taicho the way that Jyuushiro did, and if Shunsui said that it would be over soon, than it would be. In truth the racking coughs that shook him from head to toe were easing, even if the pain from their attack was not.

"No, Nanao-chan, let it be. It is almost over."

"But taicho…"

"There is no point, they can do nothing for him that sleep and sake cannot."

Her disapproval hung over the room like a blanket, her face blurry in the corner of his vision as Jyuushiro finally managed to focus on his surroundings. Strong arms held him half propped against a very pink form, the color now stained a darker red. It almost made him laugh and cry at the same time. Having been teased so long for his choice in apparel, Shunsui had never once spoke of the true reason he donned such flamboyant colors. Two thousand years of holding a friend as he died slowly, two thousand years of blood that did not easily wash away… Two thousands years of appreciation that could never be spoken, only shown in endless nights spent on rooftops watching the stars, endlessly listening to the hopes and dreams of a man who seemed unable to approach life with anything but belief and love. One of these days, Jyuushiro was going to tell that young fukutaicho that she was in no place to disapprove of Shunsui, that she never would be.

Ahhh, but tell that to Shunsui. He loved her so much that disapproval from her was just as treasured as anything else.

"I am… fine… Ise. Thank you," Jyuushiro managed to say, his pride making him try to support himself, even though it was a shaky attempt. And as he always did, Shunsui let go, allowing his friend to retain as much of his honor as he could.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" Nanao asked quietly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two men as both shook their heads simultaneously. Her worry was evident, including her uncertainty that they knew what they were doing. Shunsui gave a patient smile, one that she did not see beneath the wide brim of his hat before assaulting her with a dirty grin.

"My lovely young Nanao-chan, surely beauty such as yours should not be wasted in serving the likes of two old men such as us! But if you insist…"

Thwap! The sound of her fan thumping Shu's head made Jyuushiro sigh silently as he set about settling against the wall of Shunsui's private gardens, where they had all been enjoying a pleasant tea before his attack. One of these days Nanao was going to realize that she was being deliberately distracted, that the comments came only when she needed them the most, when she was overstressed and overwhelmed with her role as fukutaicho. Perhaps one day she would see that there was more to the man who led her than she believed. Perhaps one day Kiyone and Sentaro would see there was more strength to himself than they believed. Perhaps one day Yamamoto would start giving everyone hugs.

"So mean, Nanao-chan!" Shunsui whined as he rubbed his head, all the time keeping one protective eye on his friend. Jyuushiro gave him a smirk as the slender fukutaicho stood up primly and went to fetch them all some water. As soon as she was out of earshot, the dark haired shinigami frowned at the 13th division captain.

"That one was worse than normal," Shunsui said flatly.

"Aren't they all?" Jyuushiro joked weakly. His friend shook his head.

"Maybe you should see Unohana, Jyuu." Advice was not given unless necessary or asked for between them, so the statement betrayed Shunsui's worry.

"And be told what? That I am dying? I have been dying since I met you. I'll be dying for quite a while longer." Jyuushiro just smiled. "We both know how this will go, and we both agreed."

"I promised I'd make sure you died with dignity, friend," Shunsui whispered quietly, watching Nanao move back across the gardens, each step precise and measured. "I never promised that I would let it happen without fighting it with every breath."

"Then it is good that at least one of us can still breathe." His attempt at a joke was met with only a hurt silence. Jyuushiro reached out and gripped his friend's shoulder in fingers that still trembled, noticing that Shunsui's own were doing the same.

"It's okay," Jyuushiro said quietly, reassuringly parroting his friend's earlier words. Silently he added, _It'll be over soon enough_.

Two thousand years together, and he knew that Shunsui could hear what he had not said. And as he leaned against the wall, watching a man in red-stained pink smooth over an expression of pain and prepare to bother a pretty girl, Jyuushiro decided that yes, it was one of those days. He could not ignore this forever, not when it affected those around him as much as it did. Which was harder: dying a slow and painful death or watching someone you love do it instead? One only needed to look in the eyes of his friend and they would know.

He had been dead a very long time and dying just as long. But he wasn't dying alone. Right along side him, matching him footstep for footstep, Kyoraku Shunsui was being killed with every breath Ukitake Jyuushiro failed to take.

Ahhh. Such as things go.


End file.
